


Please Come Home

by teddysheeranfics



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2742749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddysheeranfics/pseuds/teddysheeranfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before Christmas Eve and Ed's flight is delayed.  Will he make it home in time for Christmas Day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Come Home

"Just tell me you’ll be home soon," I frowned against the phone, sat alone in our big apartment in the living room. The Christmas tree gave the room a soft glow from the multicolored lights while they cycled through alternating flashes of red and green, the reflection of them making the picture frames twinkle each time they shuffled.

"I wish I could promise you that I would be," Ed spoke softly, and I could picture his face then, probably with his black rimmed glasses resting low on his nose, eyes lowered and somber. 

It would be the first Christmas Ed wouldn’t be home. He typically made sure he had the time around the holiday off to ensure that he would be home to spend it where he was meant to, but this year he’d agreed to be completely selfless and spend a day at a Children’s Hospital. It was something he could never turn down and although it was held the day before Christmas Eve, he called me from the airport thousands of miles away, my chest growing heavy when he said something about storms and delays. 

I sat curled up under a blanket, a small goblet of white wine resting in my hand and against my leg while I held the phone to my ear, praying the weather would somehow clear up and get him home.  
"I don’t want you to feel bad," I told him, "you did a really great thing."

I heard a smile in his voice then, and though I could hear that he was tired from the rasp in his throat, he stayed on the phone with me. 

"It was pretty incredible," he admitted, "there was this one little dude, you would’ve loved him. He kept showing me his drawings and told me he drew something for me as a Christmas present," he continued, "he was only seven and his mum told me during his chemo treatment everyday he listens to ‘Lego House’ on repeat, so he colored me a picture of one, and it’s got two little Lego men in it too. He said the one with the red hair and guitar was me and the one without any hair was him.”

My heart nearly burst then at the tone in Ed’s voice, relaying his day to me, and I envisioned him crouched in front of the little boy with a wide smile, taking the picture and warmly embracing him.

"I showed him my Lego tattoos and he couldn’t believe they weren’t the temporary ones, he kept trying to rub them off. What a lad," he laughed, and I pictured him leaning back in the uncomfortable airport seat as he continued, "he told me he wanted one too so I think I’m gonna find a load of fake ones and have them sent to him."

The funny thing about Ed was that he would pull through and actually send that little boy a near lifetime supply of washable tattoos. He told me how the boy’s mother pulled him aside as he was meant to be leaving the room to move on to the next, thanking him through tears when she hugged him so tight he wasn’t sure she would let go. 

“Aww, my God,” I pressed the wine glass against my chest since I didn’t have a free hand. I couldn’t handle imagining being in that mother’s shoes, but I knew Ed made it the smallest bit better just by being so sweet, “she must’ve been so happy to see her little boy smile.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, a smile in his tone, “she was really, really sweet. She said she couldn’t remember the last time she smiled before then, too. I had Stuart take her information so I could get tickets to the kid if he’s well enough.”

If he continued, I swore I was going to melt straight down into the cushion and by the time Ed finished his first story, it was close to midnight. I took another sip of wine, the bittersweet alcohol making my eyes a little heavier.

“Hey,” he said then, and I yawned involuntarily.

“Yeah?”

“It’s midnight where you are, right? Merry Christmas.”

My eyes watered from the yawn and a smile crept over my mouth. It hit me then how much I missed him, having not seen him in almost three months. Though I knew Ed was doing great things, I couldn’t help but feel a little selfish when it came to wanting to see him, and it killed me that he was spending the start of Christmas alone in an airport.

“Merry Christmas baby,” I responded, the smile still playing at my lips, staring down at the wine glass, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I know, love, I can’t wait to see you either.”

We said our goodbyes shortly after, finding myself almost dozing off on the phone. I stood from the couch, stretching my tired muscles as I walked over to the Christmas tree, flicking off the lights before wandering off to our bed, the sheets cold and vacant and faintly smelling sweetly of Ed and his cologne. I tucked his pillow close to my front, cuddling up and inhaling the familiar scent of him. There was a dim glow in the room from the streetlamps outside, and I stared out the window to the left of the bed, smiling when I saw the smallest traces of snowflakes starting to fall. It was beautiful the way they fell, glowing orange from the artificial light, but I realized how much I resented it then, knowing the storm brewing overhead was the reason Ed and I were spending the night alone, miles away from each other.

Thanks to the three glasses of wine I’d had, I slept soundly through the night, waking up to the sunrise and a blinding full blanket of snow covering the ground outside. 

Even though I’d just woken up, I couldn’t stand the silence spreading throughout the house, missing the soft groans of sleep in Ed’s voice as he’d wake up and the light brushes of his fingers when he’d stir me awake. After that, we’d wander off to the kitchen and have our morning coffee, taking the warm mugs back to bed and staying there until the very last second before one or both of us had to actually get up. I missed those moments the most, three months alone began feeling more like a year. 

I made my coffee and trailed off back to bed, just the same as I would had Ed been there, my bare feet cold against the cool tile in the kitchen. I sent Ed a good morning text, telling him ‘Merry Christmas’ again, and reiterated how much I missed him, and it wasn’t until he texted back with nothing but a sad faced Emoji icon when I felt complete sorrow washing over me, knowing exactly what he meant.

I couldn’t help the tears that fell from my eyes, the text going to a blur when he said he wouldn’t be able to catch a flight home until the day after Christmas. It wasn’t fair, and though I knew it wasn’t his fault, a part of me still blamed him. I couldn’t respond to the news, so I dropped the phone angrily against the bed and covered my face with my hands, giving in to the sadness I felt in my chest. I just wanted him home.

I went through the afternoon cleaning the house although it didn’t need it, dancing around the kitchen in nothing but my black bra and blue underwear while I mopped the floor. I knew that if I just sat around missing Ed I would collapse into a ball of depression, so I turned on some music, threw my hair in the messiest bun I’d ever seen, and let loose in the kitchen, my bare feet slipping over the tile as I danced and sang because nobody was watching.

I sang into the handle, belting out the second verse of ‘Crazy In Love’, truly feeling like Beyoncé in that very moment I dipped the mop. I was sure I would get a noise complaint from one of the neighbors.

It was too loud in the kitchen for me to hear my phone buzz, and I didn’t see Ed’s text until almost a half an hour after he’d sent it, grabbing my phone while the music still blared, trying to catch my breath from dancing so damn hard. 

“Hey babe, I know you’re upset, but are you home? I need a favor.” Ed texted, and I smiled, suddenly feeling like a selfish prick. He had more of a right to be upset than I did. He was the one spending Christmas truly alone. At least I was home and could visit friends or family; he was stuck.

“Sure,” I replied, “I’m sorry I was being an asshole. I’m not upset, just sad.”

I leaned against the counter as my phone indicated he was typing.

“Please don’t be sad, love, we’ll see each other soon. Promise.”

I sent him a little heart and a smile in response, asking him what he needed me to do.

“Can you go into the living room and just see if I left my laptop charger by the sofa?”

Without thought I left the kitchen, cutting the corner toward the living room.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

I jumped at the sound of his voice, my heart pounding out of my chest when I realized that he was there. He was there and I didn’t know how. I dropped my phone from my hands, tears immediately pooling in my eyes as I covered my mouth. I ran to him and he caught me when I jumped into his arms, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He groaned and laughed when I landed, stumbling a bit as his hands caught me under my thighs, supporting my weight. I threw my hands around his neck and buried my face against his shirt, my throat burning from the tears as he held me.

I felt his fingers trace circles against my bare thighs, just under the band of my underwear. I was completely overjoyed, unable to process that I wasn’t dreaming and he was actually there. He lowered me carefully to my feet and I shook my head in confusion, my hands finding the sides of his face.

“How are you here right now?”

He smiled, reaching up and gathering my wrists in his hands, kissing my knuckles.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said holding my cheeks, the pads of his fingers massaging the skin behind my ears, “you have no idea how much I missed you.”

I sniffled and he wiped my cheeks with his thumbs, bringing his lips to mine softly. It’d been so long since we had that, the only communication between us the past three months being a phone call or a FaceTime session, and none of that could compare to the way his lips felt on mine, and the feeling of his fingers on my skin.

“My flight was delayed, but not for as long as you thought. I boarded about an hour after we hung up with each other,” he said once we settled down and wandered to the kitchen, the mop and bucket still leaned against the counter.

“I kind of hate you for lying to me,” I said, a smile inching over my mouth, although I was dead serious, “I cried my eyes out when you sent that stupid Emoji.”

He pouted his lips, either trying to seduce me or trying to not get slapped, and he reached out, his hands landing warm against my hips. I brought my eyes up to his when he pulled us together, pressing his groin flush to mine.

“Well it’s Christmas, so I think I should get a free pass, plus,” he said, his nose inching toward mine and brushing. I shivered when he breathed against the top of my lip, grazing his over mine, “you know you love surprises, and what better surprise than me?”

He had a smug look on his face suddenly and I gently shoved him back, eliciting a laugh from him, “I’m kidding, baby, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, all I want to know is if you saw me dancing to Beyoncé because holy shit that was my best work, and if you missed that, you might as well just go back where you came from.”

He came forward again, clutching my hips with his hands, pulling me close before I could protest.

“Oh, I saw. I’d been standing in the living room for about,” he squinted one eye in thought, the birthmark in the corner disappearing into the crease when he did, “twenty minutes.”

I shook my head, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread over my cheeks, “you’re so evil. I can’t wait to get you back.”

We spent that Christmas Eve practically sewed to each other, having a hell of a hard time leaving our bed that day. I couldn’t believe he was home, and that night, we sat cross-legged facing each other beneath the lit tree, the only light in the room being the glow from the branches. We were both clad in our pajamas; me in gray sweatpants and a white shirt, and him in his red and blue plaid bottoms and a red shirt while we sat. I wanted to give Ed one of the gifts I’d gotten him early, and though he wanted to give me one of mine too, he made us wait until midnight, so it was officially Christmas.

“This reminds me of being little,” I said, looking under the tree at the few wrapped gifts spread around.

Ed smiled and leaned over to reach a box, wrapped neatly in red and silver paper, a cute little red bow on top, “me and my brother used to sit under the tree every Christmas Eve to try and guess how far out into the room our gifts would go,” he laughed lightly, resting the box in his lap.

“Were you ever right?”

He shook his head, “we were very hopeful children,” he laughed and I leaned over to grab the gift I wanted him to open early, his eyes glistening at the sight of the size and shape of the box.

“Okay,” I said, “ready?”

He nodded gently then, and I thrust my gift toward him, the both of us trading like schoolchildren. 

“You first,” I told him, anxious to see his reaction.

He pulled up his mouth, his teeth showing in a smile when he tore open the present, eyes gleaming with happiness when he saw what it was.

Though Ed had enough money to support himself and pretty much anyone in his life for a very long time, he hardly ever splurged on things for himself, and he told me once that he was so used to living with nearly nothing that he didn’t desire expensive things, or even little things. I chose to splurge on him just that once because I knew how much he wanted it, even though he never asked or hinted at it. 

“Babe,” he smiled and I did the same as he leaned forward on his knees and kissed me, “these are amazing.”

He settled back down, smiles painted over both of our faces, “you like them?”

His face dropped in shock, “are you kidding? I’ve wanted these for months.”

Air Jordan’s. Ed Sheeran, twenty three year old millionaire and he was sat there gleaming over a pair of shoes. They certainly cost me more than I care to admit, but it was worth every cent seeing how happy he was, and completely worth the stress of ordering them online and waiting for them to ship, having received them late only three days before he opened them.

“Okay,” he exhaled, keeping the shoes in his lap, “now you.”

His face flushed and I brought my bottom lip between my teeth, itching to know what could be in the box. I raised my eyebrows in anticipation as I peeled at the wrapping, revealing a solid brown cardboard box underneath. 

“Wow,” I gleamed, “Ed, this is amazing,”

“You’re such a dork,” he said, smiling at my sarcasm.

Inside the brown box there was another box, but this one was small and it made my heart jump when I spotted it buried beneath red tissue paper.

I pulled it out, glancing up at Ed and seeing a gleam in his eye.

“Ed,” I trailed, but he quickly waved his hand, telling me to open it.

My breathing increased as I ripped the paper, sure enough revealing a small jewelry box.

First came the sound of a pop when I opened it, and then came a gasp deep from my throat, tears immediately filling my eyes as a hand clapped over my mouth.

A ring. A gorgeous silver sparkling diamond ring met my eyes and shivers ran up my spine.

“From the moment I saw you I knew you were the one,” he started, and I cried, my face pulling in, what I thought, was the most hideous of cry faces while he sat with his blue eyes locked on mine, blonde eyebrows flat as he reached for my hand, warmly clutching it to his, “I am the luckiest man on earth to have a woman like you, and baby if you say yes, I promise I will love you until the day I die, and I pray that I go first when we’re old and gray, because I can’t stand to think about living a day of my life without you in it.”

That was it. He said the words and I caved, still clutching the ring in my trembling hand, falling forward to wrap my arms tightly around his neck. I sniffled against his shoulder, and he pulled back, kissing my mouth so tenderly I hardly felt it, his eyes glued to mine while his thumbs swiped under my lids.

“I love you so much,” he said, the smallest crack itching his throat, and he slowly took the box from my hand, plucking the ring from the center, “will you marry me?” he asked then, gently holding my left hand in his, and I nodded over and over.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice a quivering mess, “yes,”

We fell asleep in each other’s arms, huddled under the tree, the smell of pine and cinnamon waking me. I was tangled in Ed, my body warm where he was pressed against my back, his scruffy cheek nestled against the nape of my neck. 

I slowly turned to face him, resting my left hand against his cheek, the ring sparkling against the Christmas lights on the tree, “I hope I make you as happy as you make me,” I whispered and he sighed in his sleep, blonde eyelashes matted to his cheeks and lips pink under the dim glow in the room.

I kissed his mouth, making him stir and squint his eyes, smiling once he realized I’d woken him up with my lips.

“Hi,” he greeted me, raspy and low, sucking a breath in through his nose.

“Hi,” I smiled, still with my hand flat against his cheek.

We kept our eyes on each other for a quick pause, just staring and beaming like legitimate lovebirds, his blue irises red around the edges from exhaustion, “what?” he asked lightly, his lips perked in a smile.

“Thank you for loving me,”

His hand came up and brushed the hair from my face, tucking it loosely behind my ear, “thank you for loving me back.”


End file.
